


We All Knead a Little Love

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Series: January: 31 Days Challenge [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Adults in love, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cody has lots of brothers, English Professor Obi-Wan, Family Feels, It's Honestly Just Wholesome, M/M, More dramatic than my last modern AU, OBi-Wan and Anakin and Ahsoka are siblings, Professor Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon Lives, Ridiculously large amounts of bread references, Wholesome af, baker Cody, some drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: Cody likes his work at the bakery he's built with Rex. It's warm and peaceful and...solitary.But every so often, there comes an opportunity for something a little bit more.
Relationships: Anakin/Padme (Background), CC-2224 | Cody & Boba Fett, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dooku & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: January: 31 Days Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089257
Comments: 121
Kudos: 480





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Combining my two obsessions: Star Wars and baking. Hopefully its a vibe, but we'll see! 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think :) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at this same name! Always down to talk shop and Star Wars

The table creaked gently, rhythmically under Cody’s hands as kneaded the bread back and forth in his smooth, familiar motions. He worked until it was springy to the touch, knowing without checking that it would stretch without breaking. The next steps came just as easily, the bread smeared with cinnamon paste, dried fruits, and nuts and twisted into a braid before the song playing over the radio had even entered its second verse. Cody placed it carefully into the last slot on the tray to begin its quick prove with the identical loaves alongside it, careful to leave enough space so that they wouldn’t swell together as the yeast rose.

He stepped away from the bread--all of the days' loaves now set to rise alongside the stollens he was making special for Saturday and the babkas that were rising slowly but steadily in preparation to be shipped out with holiday orders--and started work on the cookies. True to his word, Rex had mixed and chilled all of the dough the night before, labeling everything in clear, albeit messy, handwriting. Cody scooped even rounds of dough onto parchment lined baking sheets as the air around him began to thicken with the warmth radiating off of the ovens as they preheated and the thick smell of fermenting yeast and cinnamon coming from the braided breads.

He was on his fifth sheet of cookies, the first four of classic chocolate chip already in the oven, when he thought he could feel someone watching him. It certainly wasn’t anyone in the bakery; the shop wouldn’t be open for another 3 hours and the café for four. From where he stood, the bagging table blocked his straight line of sight out of the back window.

It had been one of own ideas to convert one of the kitchen walls into a massive, double-paned window for the public to view their work through. Spindly black letters on a banner at the top of the glass read “Watch Us Bake!” with the logo printed on the bottom. In the two years since the window had been installed, there was usually at least one watcher at some point during the day and sometimes, especially when he would make the twists and wraps of their increasingly popular candy cane loaves or when they would do model bakes based on whatever was being cooked on the Great British Baking Show that week, there would be a dozen or more people watching them bake through the window. There was more than one customer that had come to Cody and told him that being able to see the space they worked in, with the stone hearths and pristinely clean surfaces, was what had led them to buy their first loaf or cookie (even if it was the taste that kept them hooked).

But even though watchers were not uncommon, having someone watch through the window when it was scarcely past five in the morning would be a first. None of the other shops in this part of downtown were even open this time of day, and the old fashioned (looking, anyway) light poles were still lit against the darkness on the sidewalks. Since he had opened the bakery, Cody could count on one hand the number of times that he had seen other people near the shop before seven o’clock when the woman who owned the bookshop across the street arrived to open her business. Shaak Ti never let a Wednesday go buy without making sure she got a box of snickerdoodles; after she had shown up late after being held up by a book signing and missed her cookies, Cody always made sure to keep her a box underneath the counter.

For a moment, he was almost worried that someone was considering robbing the place. If they were, it would be a serious mistake for more than one reason, the least of which being that he hadn’t even gotten the morning tills out of the safe. If it was an intended robber, he didn’t want to let on that he had noticed them, and so finished the tray of oatmeal raisin was working on, watching to see if they were going to leave. The shadowy shape didn’t move, and so he kept working, emptying the vat of dough and sliding the trays of identical cookies into the oven before deciding that investigation was necessary even if it meant the snickerdoodles and peanut butter cookies would be a bit late going in. He peeled his gloves off, the fingers sticky with dough remnants, and walked over to the garbage can where he could have a full view of the window.

There was a man standing there, but he was hardly dressed to rob anyone. Despite the fact that it was scarcely above forty degrees outside, the man was wearing shorts and a t-shirt with the local university athletics logo on it, his phone strapped to his arm with some sort of thick band and connected to his ears by thin, wired earbuds. He had his hands on his hips, breathing a bit heavy and his face flushed as though he had just stopped running. Cody watched him, more curious than anything as to why he had stopped.

The man either didn’t see Cody or was too enraptured by the printed menu and story foldout he was reading through the glass to acknowledge him. Cody swallowed a bit, stepping back to the fridge to pull out the remaining cookie dough when he realized that he was staring perhaps a bit too much at the man’s legs which –he had to admit—looked rather nice in those shorts. His hair was nice, too. And his beard. All things that Cody found very distracting when he needed to get the last of his cookies scooped.

When he emerged from the fridge with the peanut butter dough, he caught a final glimpse of the man as he moved beyond sight of the window, running again. Cody wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but thought that the man might have caught his eye as he ran by. Cody felt himself blush a little, acknowledging that it was likely nothing at all.

“Did Mrs. Ti come in and get her cookies?” Cody paused from carrying the stack of empty wire bread baskets when he saw the snickerdoodle box missing from where he had left it. No one responded, the café busy with the after lunch buzz as people began to return their dishes and pick up loaves to take home. “Boba.” He said, a bit more forcefully to ensure his brother would notice.

“Yeah, she did,” Boba answered back with a small huff, packing up a parcel of cranberry walnut loaves for the woman on the other side of the counter, “About twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay,” Cody said, and pulled the now empty cranberry-walnut basket from the shelf. “Do we need anything else up front?”

No answer again, but he waited until Boba had finished ringing the woman up, convincing her that purchasing one white chocolate macadamia nut cookie was the perfect indulgence. Cody had to smile at that; it was the reason they let Boba work the counter after all. Before him, it had been largely Waxer and Boil which had been…interesting in terms of customer relations. And prior to them it was Rex who thankfully had seen this weakness in himself long before Cody ever had to point it out to him.

“I heard someone say we’re low on hot tea options,” Boba said, turning quickly to take sandwich and soup orders as Rex dinged the tiny bell to say they were ready, “And we can always use more cookies up here.”

Cody left his brother to it, Boba calling out loudly the last names of the people who were waiting on their lunch. He refilled the baskets quickly, that day’s supply already low even though it was only one p.m. He thought that perhaps they had finally found the balance of making enough to meet demand without making so much that there was waste, although at the moment he was wondering if they needed to increase their amount of cranberry walnut loaves since he had already refilled the basket of mini-loaves twice that morning.

After the baskets were full again and the stock of hot tea bags replenished, he considered what to do about the cookies. He stacked a tray with mostly chocolate chip, then some oatmeal raisin. A couple of the macadamia nut, a few squares of shortbread, and finally, the final couple of cinnamon rolls that had survived the breakfast crowd. It was rare that they had any let, but he figured between Boba’s smooth register talk and their sterling taste reputation, these two wouldn’t last long.

“It’s my first time here,” At first Cody didn’t pay any attention to the smooth, accented voice at the counter, “So I wanted to wait until the line had gone down a bit.”

“We’ve got about anything you could want,” Boba said, and gestured along the counter and to the walls behind him, “Any preferences? I can help you pick something out.”

Cody looked up at the same moment the man did, and he found his face heating for the second time that day. He had nearly forgotten the window watcher from that morning, the memory pushed out by the hectic nature of another busy day, but here the man was again. Only he wasn’t dressed as jogger any longer.

Instead of a wandering athlete, he now looked very much like a politician or perhaps a lawyer for someone important. He had on a white button-up shirt with dress slacks and loafers and a pair of honest-to-God suspenders underneath a large-collared black trench coat that was unbuttoned despite the cold. His ginger hair was combed as neatly as his beard was trimmed, and his eyes were sharp with a smile behind square-rimmed glasses. Cody couldn’t speak for a moment, holding the tray of cookies in his hands without moving.

“Thanks, Cody,” Boba said, and climbed down from his stool behind the counter to take the cookies. Cody looked down at him and it was clear from the smirk on his face that he knew exactly why Cody was so flustered. “Why don’t you help this nice man?” Boba added, “And I’ll help the folks behind him.”

It was true; despite the man’s vocalized intentions to wait out the line, there was now a small group of people pushing in behind him. He sidestepped smoothly out of the way of the register where a pushy, middle-aged woman began her laundry list of demands to Boba who took it all in stride and started to fill the basket she had brought.

“Um…” Cody stepped up in front of the man, unsure whether or not to mention that the had seem him that morning. “Hello.” He decided on finally, “How can I help you today?”

“I think I saw you this morning,” The man said, his mouth moving into a bit of a smile, “Through the window in the back.”

“Y-Yes,” Cody sputtered, not exactly sure why, and couldn’t stop the wave of heat that rushed to his face, “Yes, I always come in in the morning to get everything baked.”

“I thought that might be it,” The man said and Cody couldn’t help but notice the slight redness to his own cheeks. Was he nervous, too? Why was Cody nervous? Why was this he? “I thought it all looked very interesting.”

“I never see anyone out that early,” Cody said, “I was worried you were going to try and rob me.”

The man laughed at that, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, covering his mouth with his hand. “Certainly not; it was my first morning out running since I finished moving. I didn’t expect anyone else to be out either.”

“I’m glad I have nothing to worry about,” Cody said and could feel the small knot of tension in his stomach starting to ease. Despite his own nerves, the man was easy to talk to at least, “You just moved to the city?”

“I’ll start teaching at the university this semester,” the man explained, “I moved in Saturday but have spent most of the last few days unpacking, I’m afraid.”

“What do you teach?”

A small grunt broke Cody out of his slightly enamored trance. Boba was doing his best to move around Cody without having him move to extract some of the decorated sugar cookies from the glass case to add to another person’s order. Cody shifted backwards, nearly stumbling over the tile before catching himself with one hand.

“English literature. Sometimes philosophy if I’m in the right mood.”

“What sort of mood is that?”

“Combative,” The man said and this time Cody laughed with him.

Rex was going to have a cow if Cody didn’t go to the back and slice him more of the wheat bread for lunch instead of talking to this man about nothing. But he couldn’t help it

“Well, this morning, I think you saw me while I was making the cookies.”

“Actually, what caught my eye was you making those,” Obi-Wan pointed to behind Cody to a wire basket where a single cinnamon twist remained. “I was very impressed by your technique.”

“Years of practice,” Cody said, though he felt a small glow at the compliment.

“I can tell,” the man said seriously, “My father makes bread at home and his technique is…under ongoing development, I should say.” He didn’t laugh but he did grin as though he and Cody now shared an excellent joke. “I think it would make the most sense if that were the first thing I purchased, don’t you?”

Cody reached for a wrap and package, packing up the last twist for the man.

“I’d still like your recommendation though,” he added, “Maybe a dessert to celebrate unpacking my final box this evening.”

Cody moved back to the counter, dodging Boba who was collecting breads from the baskets and Boil, who was carting stacks of freshly washed and dried plates and bowls back to where Rex was grilling the paninis. “How you feel about chocolate?”

“Hmmm,” The man’s eyes narrowed, “A personal favorite, though I must say, I like dark chocolate best. Then white. Then milk.”

Cody reached into the cabinet, opening a single serve to-go box and pulled out one of the exceedingly rich, orange and dark chocolate petit fours he had just finished icing with tiny rosettes about an hour beforehand to shine against the mirror glaze covering.

“Here,” He passed the box and the bread to the man, “On the house, since its your first visit.”

“Oh no,” He protested immediately, even though he was already holding them, “Please, I’m more than happy to pay for them.”

“The owner insists that you have them,” Cody said with a meaningful smile and the man couldn’t help but return it, “Although, they do have one question?”

The man nodded. Was Cody imagining it, or did he look the slightest bit nervous?

“What should they call you?”

“Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi,” There was that slightest hint of a blush again, “And if you would tell the owner that I’ll be back tomorrow. To learn his name, and let him know my thoughts on the food.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him, Obi-Wan.” Cody liked the way that it sounded.

And he watched as the man, as Obi-Wan, stepped around the crowd of people to the door, looking back twice at Cody who couldn’t make himself move again until he heard Rex yelling his name from the kitchenette, in need of more slices of bread.

“Will you put in an extra batch of the cranberry walnut to rise?”

Waxer nodded as Cody spoke, though it was Boil who was writing down his instructions on his miniature tablet.

“And will you make sure that Rex only does one thing of oatmeal raisin; Shady Acres called and said they aren’t bringing their usual Thursday group so we only need three trays.”

“Aye, captain,” Waxer said with a fake salute, “Anything else?”

“No, nothing unusual. Just be sure to slice the turkey for lunch tomorrow. And we might be low on cranberry salad.”

“I’ll check with Rex,” Boil assured him, making a note on his screen. “See you tomorrow, Codes.”

They walked off towards the back room, already starting bickering over who was going to do the hand kneading that night. Cody didn’t care which of them did it, frankly, since it turned out identically. The only difference was that Boil’s loaves tended to be slightly more squared at the edges whereas Waxer’s had rounded corners. Otherwise, the fact that they were twins extended far beyond their identical appearance.

“I’m headed out, Rex,” Cody called to the back room and saw his brothers thumbs up rise above where he could just see the top of his blonde hair. He took the two wheat loaves he had saved for his father from their space under the counter, “You still coming with me, Boba?”

“Yep,” Boba said, and slid off his stool again, no longer dressed in his apron and with his flight jacket halfway buttoned up. It was nearly 2:30 and close to closing. All of the bread, most of the cookies, and a large portion of the desserts were sold out for the day. They would officially close by 4:30 but since Cody had been there since almost 4 in the morning, he was taking his usual leave a few hours early to make the bank deposit and leaving Rex to lock up for the night. Boba, who had been there since 7:00, usually left with him since he was only nineteen. Cody wasn’t looking forward to when winter break ended and Boba would be back in school during the day, leaving Cody or Longshot to work the counter the majority of the time.

“We still going over to dad’s?” Boba asked as they stepped outside, pushing his long, curly hair back off of his face as it started to catch in the wind.

“As soon I drop this off,” Cody said, patting his own jacket pocket where the bank bag was. Downtown was as busy as it always was this time during the day, but the bank wasn’t particularly crowded and they were in and out in only a few minutes. AS they walked on from the bank, buffeted by the wind and the passing cars, Cody wondered where Obi-Wan had gone after he had left the bakery. Had he gone to the bank as well? Perhaps since he was new in town, he needed to open an account. Or maybe, since he hadn’t gotten anything to drink at the café, he had stopped at bubble tea shop or maybe since he was a literature professor he had decided to scope out what the bookstore had to offer.

“You’re pretty quiet,” Boba said as they turned the corner onto the set of shops and stores near the city center park. “Thinking about Ginger?”

“No!” Cody said quickly, but couldn’t look at his younger brother even though he could feel the shit-eating grin radiating outwardly from him. “And his name is Obi-Wan.” He grumbled.

“Uh huh,” Boba said and pushed open the door on the small floral shop where the bell dinged to announce their entry. Walking through the door of Fett Flowers and Gifts was always awash of memories for Cody; he had spent a lot of hours in the small store, helping with arrangements or comforting people ordering flowers for lost loved ones or learning how to do inventory and stocks. He still answered calls on occasion of people trying to reach the floral shop instead of the Fert Brothers Bread Company and could often answer their questions instead of having to send them along to his father.

“Dad!” Boba called, “I’m done at Cody’s.”

Cody watched as his brother took off his jacket and hung it in the employee counter, digging around in the drawer until his found his plated nametag and grabbed a broom to start sweeping. “Since when do you sweep?” Cody asked incredulously.

“Since dad gave me a raise,” Boba said indignantly and Cody rolled his eyes affectionately, hearing their father finally starting to emerge from the back.

“Boba?” He called, “That you?”

“And Cody, Dad.” Boba answered, sweeping up a pile of wilted leaves and fertilizer up quickly. “He brought you some bread.”

Their father finally emerged from the back room, his fingers stained and shirt dotted with some sort of rich purple dye that he had clearly been experimenting with. He stepped around the counter and before Cody could do much of anything, he was wrapped in a hug by his father, the bread he had brought smushed between them.

“Dad, you’re crushing the bread,” His father released him and instead pulled Boba into a hug, running a hand through his hair to muss it up.

“There’s my boys,” He said as Boba pulled away, straightening his shirt, “I take it Waxer and Boil and Rex and Kenneth are still at the bakery.”

“Yes, they’re getting everything ready for shut down,” Cody resisted the urge to laugh along with Boba as their father referred to Longshot as Kenneth. He was the only person, so far as Cody knew, who could do that without being tackled to the ground. “It looks like you’ve been busy.”

“Fourteen orders for one visitation,” His father gestured to the two completely clear shelves of arrangements, “And no more lilies until tomorrow morning, so we’ll have to make do for the walk-ins.”

“At least its Wednesday,” Cody said, and passed him the bread as he emerged from behind the counter with a basket, “Probably won’t be too many walk ins for Wednesday afternoon.”

“You never know!” his father insisted, “You just never know.”

Cody watched Boba, who was shaking with repressed laughter as he pretended to sweep over and over again in the same spot to avoid looking up.

“Anything interesting happen at the bakery today, boys?”

Cody was about to say no when Boba interrupted him. “Cody met someone.”

“I’m sure Cody meets people everyday,” His father said, but at Boba’s pointed look turned to Cody, “Ah, you mean _someone_ someone. Tell me about them. Who are they? Another baker?”

“He’s an English professor at Coruscant,” Boba interrupted again, and Cody could feel the urge to throttle him returning in full force, “British. Ginger.”

“Ginger?” His father raised his eyebrows at that. “Interesting.”

“Did I miss why everyone is worried about his hair color?” Said Cody sourly, but the whole conversation was making him think of Obi-Wan again. Had he tried his bread yet? Or his petit four? Would he actually eat them or simply tell Cody he had enjoyed them? Would he actually come back the next day? “But yes, he seems nice.”

“You are talking to him, then?” His father moved behind the counter, sitting in one of the chairs there with a slight huff. It reminded Cody that he was getting older, less flexible, thicker gray in his hair. He had been young when Cody was born, but Cody was in his thirties now and neither of them were quite young any longer.

“I don’t know, dad,” Cody said, wishing for this conversation to be over, “We’ll see if he comes back to the bakery tomorrow.

“Did you give him something you made?” Cody nodded, “Then he’ll be back if he has any sense.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the response on the first chapter of this story! :D  
> It's so fun to write and I'm so glad that people seem to like it! 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please R and R, let me know what you think :) 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at this same name; I'm always down to talk shop and star wars

“You seem distracted, Codes,” Rex said, not looking at him while holding down the panini press and flipping a reuben in the same stroke.

“I’m not distracted,” Cody said pointedly, shaping the round rings of his stollens into their characteristic braided bands.

“Really? Because that first batch of iced cookies you made beg to differ.”

“I didn’t put those out,” Cody huffed. It would have been easier to be angry if Rex had been wrong about the state of the cookies but that first batch had looked as though someone had attempted to pipe Cody’s intricate apple brandy icing into recognizable designs and then promptly sat on them. They were boxed up for Longshot to take back to his dorm where Cody was certain that none of his friends would care what they looked like as long as they were free.

He heard the bell ding, meaning that the food Rex was plating was finished, but didn’t hear the familiar sound of butter sizzling on the griddle. Knowing what it meant, he took extra care tucking in the ends of his dough before turning around to face his brother.

“Is it Ginger?” Rex’s dark eyebrows were raised so high that they seemed to be almost touching his blonde hair. Cody pursed his lips, debating the benefits and consequences of trying to lie when his brother had clearly realized what was happening.

“Maybe.” He decided that being noncommittal was his best alternative and had added a shrug to prove his point. Rex clearly didn’t buy it, but turned around as Boba’s hand appeared to take a plate as the order tablet buzzed over Rex's head.

“Has he been back by today?”

Cody’s first reflex was to say no, that he had not come back by which was becoming and increasingly intense source of anxiety. But he realized, before he said it that while Obi-Wan had not been back inside the store, Cody was almost certain that it was him that had left the plastic bag tied to the door handle that morning when Cody had gone to unlock the door. He hadn’t seen him by the watcher’s window, but with it being babka shaping and baking that morning, he had been even busier than normal.

The bustle of the café opening for breakfast had kept him from investigating the bag’s contents, however, as he had worked as Boba’s runner for most of the shift, serving thick slices of banana bread and breakfast pastries as fast as he could get them cut. He thought it had been a while since they had had so many people order their in-house coffee and it seemed like half of the morning was filling cups and saucers to balances on the breakfast trays or else retrieving freshly washed and dried ones from Waxer and Boil as Longshot worked to keep the tables clear and the refill station full. Cody liked working breakfast rush with his brothers; they kept in a seemingly smooth rhythm, the dings of the register and Rex’s bell matching with the scraping of the cups and constant running press of the coffee pot. He would miss them when the four younger ones started class again and they would be mismatched again; adjusting for everyone’s course schedules.

But when breakfast had ended and the pre-lunch lull had offered the twins time to load the dish machine and Longshot to mop the bathroom while a few solitary patrons read books and a few of the downtown offices came in to pick up called in order of cookies or specialty cakes, he had taken a few moments to explore the contents. It was a Ziploc baggie, containing what it had taken a moment for Cody to realize was a blend of tea leaves. Stuffed in their with it was a receipt for a container of nasal spray and bag of Reese’s Pieces which had confused him until he turned it over and written on the back in perfect cursive was “For a twist!”

He smiled again now, thinking of it. He had brewed it shortly after, ringing up a cinnamon braid to split with Boba who had inhaled most of it before Cody’s tea had stopped steeping. When he had tried to give Boba an exasperated look Boba had merely shrugged and stuck the last bit of the braid into his mouth before going to wash his hands.

The tea, Cody had found, did go perfectly with the bread. It was spicy itself, hints of cinnamon and nutmeg and other things that he was sure he could identify if he wanted to take the time to do it. Either way, it had been the perfect accompaniment to the bread and seemed as though it were hand blended. He had finished the cup and was debating another when business started to pick back up again. He had an order of cupcakes he had to finish for that afternoon and the stollens to bake and so the rest of the tea and the last few bites of his bread were carefully wrapped in the casual food refrigerator.

“He dropped some things off this morning.” Cody said finally, Rex well on his way to preparing the next sandwich and soup combination. “I think he might come back this afternoon.”

“Hope so,” Rex said absentmindedly, setting up a steaming bowl of broccoli cheddar soup and ringing the bell for Boba who grabbed it in seconds.

“Why is that?”

“I haven’t seen you this excited about something since we got the fourth oven.”

“I’m headed to dad’s,” Boba was pulling on his jacket, watching Cody who had found himself watching the door as the afternoon ticked by, leaning on the bread rack, “Mrs. Jensen wanted a scan of her receipt for the cupcakes.”

Cody looked over at him, barely listening.

“I can send it if you want.” Boba offered.

“I took care of it,” Longshot came up behind Cody, carrying a basket of napkins and straws to set out, “I thought loverboy might be a bit distracted.”

If he hadn’t been in his thirties and standing in full view of a good number of people, Cody might have punched Longshot as he walked by. Boba grinned though, buttoning up the bottom portion of his jacket and yelling a goodbye to Rex and the twins before he headed out, curls bobbing by the outside window as he headed for the flower shop. He was now, rather than the slightly distracted he had felt earlier, highly edgy. He sat down on Boba’s stool at the register and drummed his fingers on the counter, standing and sitting several times over the course of the next few minutes as he waited. What he was waiting on exactly, was unclear.

It was still early, he told himself. And he hadn’t promised to come back the next day or anything like that. And, beyond all that, Cody was no longer a sixteen year old so this tension building in his chest was highly suspect. Especially since his first interaction with this man had lasted all of five minutes. And especially since there was still a lot to get done before the day ended. He swapped places with Longshot, who took to manning the register (meaning that the music in the café changed from Boba’s indie and indie folk playlist to soothe the hipsters who came by in the afternoon to an acoustic cover of Gangster's Paradise) while Cody kept his regular rotation.

Four thirty was approaching, and he had resigned himself to the fact that Obi-Wan was not returning. He had just moved into town, perhaps he was simply too busy to make it back by that day. And it wasn’t as though Cody didn’t have other things to do. They sold out of the loaves early and he moved the wire baskets to go ahead and run through the dishwasher. The stollens finished baking and he wrapped the holiday packages and finished the Click-N-Ship labels well before the post office man arrived to pick them up at four. Cody gave him a loaf of cranberry hazelnut bread as a thank you, having intended to give him a cinnamon braid but held onto the last one in the basket…just in case.

Four thirty loomed closer, the was grill closed and cleaned as Rex started on the doughs for the next day. Cody could feel him wanting to ask Cody if he was planning on staying, but he didn’t. Cody did his best to stay out of Rex’s way. It had been a long time since he had stayed until the café closing, but he could tell that Longshot appreciated the help as he kept himself occupied by doing the mopping.

Finally four thirty did come and Longshot headed out, headphones covering his ears and the box of mangled sugar cookies tucked under his arm. The twins were arguing as they loaded the dishwasher, but Cody didn’t think it was about anything serious. Rex was in the back, Cody’s radio turned on and two mixers running at once as he prepped the cookies for the next morning. Cody cleaned the windows, inside and out, adjusted the printouts posted to the front, and decided that enough was enough.

He ran himself up for his second cinnamon twist of the day, taking it from under the counter where he had tucked it away, and pulled on his jacket. Rex looked up at the sight, giving him a resigned sort of smile. Cody could feel the disappointment in his chest that refused to be tamped down despite also telling himself that this entire thing was silly. He called to Waxer and Boil who yelled goodbyes back, and nodded to Rex as he stepped out.

“Codes!” He was almost to the door when Rex yelled to him. “Cody!” His brother’s blonde head appeared in the doorway. “Visitor,” He said, gesturing to the watcher’s window, his resigned smile now changed into a broad, slightly-teasing grin.

If Cody had been thinking straight, he might have simply gone outside to where Obi-Wan was standing out the window. But he wasn’t thinking that clearly, and so instead stepped into the backroom, and saw Obi-Wan through the window. He looked perfectly windswept, his cheeks not covered by beard reddened with wind-burn and his perfectly combed hair slightly fluffed with the wind. He smiled at Cody, and waved, almost uncertainly.

“See you tomorrow,” Rex said, moving out of Cody’s line of sight towards the back fridge.

“Bye,” Cody said, and stepped back into the front room, trying not to seem too eager. He forced himself to walk slowly towards the door where he opened it to the jingling of the small bells over the door.

Obi-Wan had moved towards him, looking mostly apologetic. He had on the same coat as the day before, pulled over another button-up, this one light blue, with a vest a few shades darker.

“I saw the sign said the shop closed at 4:30,” Obi-Wan said, his face full of apology, “My plan was to come for breakfast but my father had other ideas. Namely, a full tour of the city’s botanical gardens.”

“It’s no problem,” Cody said, the agitated anguish of waiting the whole day melting away now that he was here again. So it hadn’t just been Cody who had felt something between them, not just Cody who might be interested in seeing where this might go. “I’m glad you could make it back.”

“And I’m very glad you’re still here,” Obi-Wan said, stepping even closer to Cody, either simply because he wanted to or to block out the slightly buffeting wind. “I was worried after I missed you this morning that you might be gone before I got the chance to come back.”

“I brewed your tea, by the way,” Cody said, and he thought that maybe now the pink that touched Obi-Wan’s face wasn’t strictly from the wind. “You were right, it was perfect with the cinnamon twist.”

“Yes, I quite enjoyed it yesterday,” Obi-Wan said with a smile, “I didn’t realize quite how hungry I was until I remembered I hadn’t eaten lunch so I’m afraid it didn’t last long. And I’’ve found that particular blend good with anything cinnamon.”

“It’s always best when its fresh,” Cody said, and remembered that he was holding a second, cinnamon twist in his hand. “Here,” He said, and handed it to Obi-Wan, “The tea seemed like a ringing endorsement, so I thought you might like another loaf.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows raised the slightest amount as he took the package Cody offered.

“Especially where you’re still moving in,” Cody said, suddenly nervous, “ I know it can be hard to manage all of that and cooking. Especially breakfast.”

“Thank you,” His voice was touched with a sort of warmth that Cody hadn’t expected. It made the nervousness that his gesture would be interpreted as patronizing lessen its pressure on his chest. “Before I can take this, I do have two questions.”

“O-Okay.” Was he sputtering? Why was he sputtering?

“Can I know the name of my bread benefactor?”

“Oh,” Cody could feel heat rising to his own face now. “Its--ah--Cody. Cody Fett,” He gestured to the Fett Brothers Bread Company sign, “One of the many Fett brothers.”

Obi-Wan’s smiled, amused.

“You had a second question?”

“Would you like to go on a short walk with me, Cody?” He asked, “Perhaps we can share a snack at the park in the city center.

“I used to spend a lot of time in this park as a kid,” Cody said, “I would come out here when things at the shop were slow.”

“Your father’s flower shop?” Obi-Wan asked, covering his mouth as he spoke and chewed on his most recent bite of bread.

Cody turned slightly on the bench, “Right around that corner. I used to come here and feed the ducks.” The way that the bench they were sitting on was turned, the entirety of the duck pond was visible. A squad of children were there now, tossing bits of bread into the water which the ducks were ignoring. Cody had realized a lot time ago that they really only liked the crust, but the children at the pond didn’t know that and weren’t deterred by the ducks lack of enthusiasm. Boba had mentioned that they could sell day old bread from the bakery at one of the food stands set up near the small playground, and Cody thought that would actually be a great idea if they ever had any left over.

“That seems like something my father would enjoy doing now.”

That wasn’t the response Cody had been expecting and he laughed through his own bite of bread. “Your father seems like an interesting man. I don’t think that many people’s first introduction to the city is the botanical gardens.”

“He’s very interested in plants,” Obi-Wan said, and looked amused, “One plant in particular, I suppose, but he also does both indoor and outdoor gardening with my sister.” Cody almost choked on his bread, deciding it was best to swallow this bite before he did for certain.

In the short walk over, it seemed to Cody that he had learned a good deal about Obi-Wan Kenobi. One brother who was younger and married with two kids, and one sister who was a year younger than Boba. Working on class-based analysis of Milton as an extension of his doctoral research. Allergic to sage. And Cody had shared about himself: His many brothers, the flower shop, founding the bakery with Rex. Their walk had taken them through the city and around the park before they had settled on this bench to share their bread.

“He seems like he would be a good time.”

“Oh, he is,” Obi-Wan turned towards him, bending on leg over his knee to hold himself in place. “Among other things. I told him about your bread, so I would expect a visit anytime.”

“How will I know its him?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll announce himself to you,” Obi-Wan said and changed his voice into a slightly different accent, “Obi-Wan, there are always opportunities to meet interesting people. You should seize them more often.”

“I think you’ve seized one for sure,” Cody said without thinking and felt his face heating again. Had he just called himself interesting? He thought that maybe he had. Oh god.

“I certainly have,” Obi-Wan was smiling, looking thoughtful. “And I hate to cut this short, but I do have to head out.”

“Oh,” Cody said, “Right.” Did that mean he wanted to talk again? Or maybe not? Did he want Cody to ask? “I’ve had a really nice time—”

“Would you be interested in going to dinner this weekend?” Obi-Wan said, pausing minutely when he realized he had interrupted Cody speaking. He now looked exactly as nervous as Cody felt. “If you’re interested, I could cook for us.”

Cody was too startled to speak for a moment, warmth spreading from his chest outwards.

“Or we could go out somewhere,” Obi-Wan amended quickly, “Or if you aren’t interested—”

“I’d love to,” Cody said finally and watched relief and excitement split Obi-Wan’s features. “Saturday evening? I’ll bring dessert.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support on thsi story! 
> 
> I will be responding to comments, just haven't had time yet! 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy :) Please R and R, let me know what you think1 
> 
> find me on tumblr at the same name :)

There was a sharp bite to the wind as Cody walked down the street towards the address Obi-Wan had texted him. He was out of the city center where his own apartment was, and out in one of the neighborhoods that he was a bit less familiar with. It was an easy walk; he had passed by the bakery on his way over, getting excited waves from Waxer and Boil, the first of which was mopping and the second of which was deep cleaning the insides of one of the freezers which he did on rotations each week. Cody had seen the light in the back office and knew Rex was there, but also that he was closing the books since he had the next day off (which meant a extra long day for Cody).

The day on the whole had been busy, Saturdays were always busy with special orders and the like, but it had passed in a bit of a blur. He had left early, only slightly after ten that morning when he had finished with a jungle themed birthday cake that a woman was picking up on her lunch break, and spent the rest of the day in slightly anxious anticipation. He had decided to try spend at least part of it taking a nap, since he had been up so since so early that morning, but his nap had been full of fidgeting. After a restless half hour, he had instead decided to burn off the feeling on a run around the city center park which had, when he returned, tired him out enough that he had been able to sleep for a bit.

After that, he had spent entirely too much time deciding what he was going to wear. Most days he wore the same thing, a dark green polo with the bakery logo on it; jeans that were either dark blue or black, and one of his many jackets. He didn’t care much about the clothing that he wore, but he did enjoy having a nice jacket. Which was part of his current dilemma: It had been a while (since the bakery had grown from his and Rex’s apartment based operation to the actual business) since he had been on a date, and he wasn’t even 100% sure what to wear. Clearly not the bakery polo, though the temptation to do so was certainly present.

He had considered, in a moment of madness, texting Boba to ask what might be good. He had decided however, on a dark green button up, black jeans, and soft black leather bomber jacket. Before he had gotten dressed, however, he had dessert to make.

He carried it now in his hands, in a plastic handled case that matched the full set his father had gotten him as a housewarming gift. Most of it he used to hold leftovers or carry lunch in to the bakery, and he had considered when he first pulled it out of the cabinet whether or not it was the first time he used the cake plate. If he was going to a party or some other function, he usually made cookies or something much smaller than a cake, so he had had no need to pull this one out.

It had been a point of deliberation all morning between his brothers as to what he should take. There was no question that it should be cheesecake, specifically his key lime cheesecake with the ginger snap base that was the foundation that the bakery had been built on. It was rare that he made it now, but it was certainly the dish he could make to impress on rare occasion and for special, announced occasions at work. The debate had not been over the cheesecake itself, but rather whether he should make a whole cheesecake or he should make miniature ones.

_“Do the miniature,” Longshot had insisted, “That way you don’t have to worry about cutting slices. What size to cut, what shape, whether or not he has dessert plates. Plus the small ones look classy.”_

_“Make a whole cake,” Waxer had offered instead. “That way, you have an excuse to talk to him again to get your cake plate back.”_

Cody had, thinking of the potential personal benefits, chosen to agree with Waxer.

And so now he carried a whole cheesecake, wary of moving his arm too much or letting it get caught in the wind so that the ginger whipped topping he had made didn’t get knocked all over the plate.

He kept it balanced as he walked through Obi-Wan’s neighborhood. All of the houses were quite interesting, the whole atmosphere feeling very…artistic. He wasn’t sure how else to describe it: Many of the houses there were cream colored with dark brown wooden inlays, resembling as much of old Tudor style buildings as they did modern homes. He had the strange impression that he was walking through an old English villages, packed with cottages and farmer’s market that had clearly been open that morning despite the fact that it was January. The farther he walked, the thicker the trees became, the ground between them clear of debris. It was quiet this far out, peaceful and far enough away that he could no longer hear the noise from the city. He did start to notice more cars, however, the farther along he went. He owned a car, primarily for work related purposes, but he drove it only on occasion. He liked to walk most places, occasionally riding the bike that the twins had gotten him for Christmas two years earlier, and otherwise riding the bus. That was his plan for getting home this evening, a plan confirmed as he passed a stop for the A line bus only a few houses up from his destination.

Obi-Wan’s house (if he was at the right place) blended in well with the rest of the neighborhood. It looked exactly the sort of place a literature professor might live, with shuttered but open windows, a rounded enclave built onto the front that overlooked the yard the road, and evidence of garden in the front, waiting to be planted in the spring. The only noticeable thing that Cody perhaps hadn’t been expecting was the ceramic flower pot on the small front porch. It was as tall as his knees, holding a large plant that Cody thought was rhubarb (to come back in the spring) and shaped exactly like a 1960’s model Volkswagen Bus, complete with a peace sign carved into the front windshield and little flowers all around it. It was so bizarre to Cody that he didn’t knock for a few minutes, simple looking at it. It was worn in some places, as though it were both well loved and had been bumped several times in its life. If nothing else happened that evening, he decided that he needed to know the story of the planter.

Now, he turned to face the door, and took a deep, steadying breath. Releasing it slowly, he knocked twice on the red painted door.

He heard shuffling behind it a few minutes later, and wondered now if he should have texted a few minutes back. “Sorry!” The apology was muffled behind the door, and he couldn’t help but smile. A few moments of metal thunking on the door later, and it opened inwards to show Obi-Wan. He looked a bit flustered, his glasses slightly askew. “My apologies, Cody,” He said, running a hand through his hair to straighten it back out, “I’m still trying to figure out how to work the door properly. I’ve almost locked myself out a few times.”

“No problem,” Cody said, stomach fluttering slightly.

He flashed a grin as he opened the door wider and stepped back to allow Cody to step into the house more fully. “Please excuse the mess; I finished unpacking all of my boxes but haven’t quite cleaned up yet.”

If there was a mess to see, Cody couldn’t find it in the pristinely clean front froom. It resembled a cottage as much on the inside as it did on the outside, with wooden beams visible on the ceilings and walls, and wooden flooring covered by soft rugs in all shades of pastel colors. They matched the furniture in the front room, that was a a mix of pastel blue and yellow, only the dark wood of several waist-high bookcases and the dark wooden television stand bucking that trend. Despite the fact that he knew Obi-Wan had only been there a week, it felt very lived in, radiating warmth that matched the smiling faces in the frame pictures on the wall.

“It looks great in here,” Cody said, taking off his shoes and putting them on the rug next to Obi-Wan’s by the door. There were four pairs in a perfect line of pairs by the door: Dark brown loafers, black and blue running shoes, a pair of utility grade boots, and a pair of Birkenstock sandals that were a good three inches longer than any of the other shoes. Cody stared at them for a long moment, a bit startled, and considered what they might be used for. “Are these your sandals?”

Obi-Wan followed Cody’s gaze down and immediately his face started reddening. “Ah, no,” He said and then laughed, covering his mouth, “They, like the rhubarb planter I’m sure you noticed on the porch, belong to my father.”

Well, Cody considered, at least he could consider one missions accomplished.

“I’m still waiting on him to come by the bakery,” Cody said, starting to peel off his jacket to hang up as Obi-Wan took the cheesecake from him carefully, “I feel like I know him by now.”

As they had texted throughout the week, the enigmatic figure that was Obi-Wan’s father was becoming increasingly real in his mind. He had gotten tidbits of stories over text, and now could see a picture of who he was certain was Obi-Wan’s father in one of the pictures hanging up. Interesting was not a strong enough word.

“I'm sure he'll be by soon; he is mentioning you more and more frequently in conversation." Obi-Wan tapped on the cake plate, I’ll take this into the kitchen, and then give you a tour if you’re up for it? I’m very excited to see what’s in this box after the petit four.”

“I hope you’ll like it,” Cody said, and even he could hear the slight nerves creep into his voice thought the effect they seemed to have on Obi-Wan was his ears reddening as he smiled slightly. (As opposed to Rex, who had snorted when Cody had voiced the same concern) “Rex thinks it’s the best thing that I make.”

Obi-Wan made a noise of slight pleasure, and tried to peer through the translucent cake plate to see what lay inside. Cody was half worried he would turn it on its side and put all the work he had done to keep the whipped topping afloat to the wind. But he didn’t, and Cody followed him through the opening area to the kitchen.

“It smells amazing in here,” He said, the smell of dinner hitting him as he stepped into the small kitchen. It was a nice kitchen, with pastel colored appliances and bowls that matched what was clearly Obi-Wan’s decorative tastes. The air had a distinct smell of citrus and rosemary, and though Obi-Wan hadn’t disclosed exactly what they might be having, he had asked a series of questions that led Cody to believe that it would likely be chicken of some sort.

“Oh, good!” Obi-Wan said, “I hope you’ll like it.” He repeated Cody’s own words with a smile, “Does this need refrigerated?”

“If you have the space,” Cody offered, and took hold of the refrigerator door so that Obi-Wan could shift around yogurt and a couple of boxes of Blue Bonnet to make room on the top shelf.

“There,” Obi-Wan said, and took the door from Cody to close it. “All right,” He said, “How about a tour?”

“Lead the way,” Cody said, smiling himself as Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair again. He was beginning to like that particular behavior. A lot.

“This is the kitchen,” Obi-Wan said, spreading his arms out, “I’m certainly not the baker that you are, but I do enjoy cooking.”

“Owning a Kitchen Aid is a good sign that there’s hope for your baking future,” Cody countered, gesturing to the pastel yellow stand mixer on the counter. “I never would have made it without mine.”

“Ah yes, well, what you don’t know is that I mostly use mine to make mashed potatoes.”

They shared a laugh at that and Cody followed Obi-Wan back out into the living room. There were two motifs he noticed, from the front room to the bathroom, was the continuing pastel colors offset by dark wood and white backgrounds and the presence of books nearly everywhere in the house. The waist high bookshelves in the front room had been only the beginning. In Obi-Wan’s office, the walls were lined with them from floor to ceiling, with an old style ladder latched to one long side of them. On top of other shelves, decorated with assorted tchotchkes and framed pictures, were books supported by a mixture of ornate and simple bookends. The books themselves, though Cody could see only blips, covered an immense range. There were multiple languages, authors Cody had heard of and read for himself and some that he had never seen. There was a good number of children’s books with bright covers, classic literature that he had read years before in high school and introductory English in college, books of poems in all sorts of languages and forms, coffee table books of 1920’s photographs and the London Underground and more.

“This is my father, Qui-Gon,” They had made it back to the living room, and had stopped in front of a long panel picture of a large group of people, all standing in a line with the woman in the middle of the line in a graduation outfit of some sort. Qui-Gon was easily half a foot taller than Obi-Wan was, which meant even taller when compared to Cody, with hair that came down at least to his elbows if not beyond and a pair of perfectly round, blue-tinted sunglasses on. “And this is Shmi, my stepmother,” The woman standing next to Qui-Gon looked much more…normal. “They’ve been married since I was about eleven.”

“This is my sister Ahsoka,” He pointed at the woman in the graduation gown who had one of her arms wrapped around him and the other around a man on the other side of her, “And my brother Anakin. And then my sister-in-law Padme, and their twins, Luke and Leia.”

“Big family,” Cody said, and Obi-Wan looked back at him as though he were worried that Cody might have a negative reaction to a large family. Instead, Cody smiled at him, and saw the relief spread over his face, “Not all that common. Sometimes I think its just me out there with five brothers.”

“And all of you work together at the bakery?” Obi-Wan asked, stepping back into the kitchen as the oven started to beep. Cody followed him, hands in his pockets, leaning on the opposite counter. Obi-Wan turned on the oven light to check on the food inside, and Cody both felt himself blush and rather enjoyed the view as he bent over to check on the contents. Who knew that anyone could wear pinstripe pants that well?

“For now,” Cody said, “Rex and I opened and own it. The rest of them are enrolled at Coruscant and work there part time. I think that Longshot might want to do more with it after he graduates, but I doubt it for the other three.”

Obi-Wan was now pulling open drawers seemingly at random until Cody realized he had been hunting for an oven mitt that Cody could see on top of the refrigerator. He took it down and handed it to a grateful Obi-Wan, now wielding a meat thermometer. He opened the over door to a rush of steam, pulling slightly on the rack to take the temperature of the food within.

“What do you think they’ll end up doing?” He asked, voice slightly strained as he pulled a truly massive tray of food from the oven, though Cody still wasn’t certain what it contained, though the smell was now making his mouth water.

“The twins are saving money to travel out west for a bit. I think Waxer will end up teaching, young kids probably. And Boil, something with computers. He’s always been good with them and both of them like the challenge, I think. Boba is more of a wild card,” Cody craned his neck to look around Obi-Wan as he turned the oven off, “Could got a lot of different ways, I think.”

“It’s the same with Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said, now reaching into a cabinet to pull out plates. Cody felt as though he should be helping but had absolutely no idea where anything was. Instead, he stepped forward to take the plates Obi-Wan was holding, “Everytime I think I know what she wants to do professionally, she develops a new interest that makes me change my mind. Thanks,” He said as Cody took the plates, and started to reach for silverware to stack on top of them. “Anakin was a bit more straightforward.”

“What is it that Anakin does?”

“Technically,” Obi-Wan paused to laugh and shake his head, “He’s a mechanical engineer. Currently, he’s working on a set of freelance projects.”

“Oh,” Cody had no idea what that entailed, “What sort of thing is that?’

Obi-Wan stacked a pair of forks and spoons on the plates in Cody’s hands, then two knives that he held in place with an outstretched thumb. “Electric vehicle propulsion for the Formula 1 racing circuit at the moment.”

Cody blinked, “That’s…actually very cool.”

“Yeah?” Obi-Wan said, stopping to look at him.

“Yeah,” Cody repeated, “There’s nothing about that that isn’t fascinating.”

Obi-Wan grinned, pushing his now fogged glasses a bit higher up his nose where they had been sliding down. “I’ll have to let him know you said that. He’s always telling me I don’t appreciate the aesthetic he’s trying to develop. I told him that if wanted an aesthetic I could appreciate, he would have better luck at the library than the racetrack.”

Cody tried to his laughter at that but failed miserably, and thankfully Obi-Wan had meant to poke a bit of fun at himself.

“I’m sure you could tell that from all of the books,” He added, reaching into the cabinet again and pulling out two clear glass cups.

“I did notice that you had quite a lot of them.”

“It was 90% of the unpacking,” Obi-Wan said, leaning back against the counter himself now, “After the books and the dishes, there was hardly anything left to bring in.”

“Do you collect books?” Cody asked, genuinely curious. It seemed to him that if Obi-Wan had one book in a set, that meant that he had the rest as well, some old and leatherbound, others new and still glossy-covered.

“Certain ones,” Obi-Wan said, and set one glass down to stroke at his beard thoughtfully. “Not with any intent. I just like them, I suppose.”

“There’s a bookshop near the bakery,” Cody offered, “If you haven’t been, Mrs. Ti who owns it would love to meet someone who likes books as much as she does.”

“I think she and I became acquainted the other day,” Obi-Wan said, and his faint blush returned. “I saw that she had a box of your cookies behind the counter, and I may have inquired as to some information about your shop.”

The thought warmed Cody from head to foot, and odd feeling, the fluttering in his stomach increasing.

“But enough of that for the moment,” Obi-Wan said, as if suddenly remembering that he had invited Cody for dinner, “Let’s eat!”

“Am I allowed to know what this is before I taste it?” Obi-Wan asked, his question both genuine and teasing in the same moment, “Or is it part of the experience?”

The tone in their conversation had shifted from the light conversation, laden with a hint of nervousness, to the same sort of electric flirting that they had done at the bakery. Dinner had been delicious; rosemary, orange, and lemon chicken with roasted potatoes, and he was now hoping that dessert would live up to it (though he was well aware he had no reason to suspect otherwise).

“No allergies other than sage?” Cody asked and Obi-Wan shook his head lightly, “Then I think you should taste it first. More of a thrill that way.”

He watched as Obi-Wan took the end off of his triangular piece of cheesecake with the fork, scooping a bit of the gingersnap crust underneath into his bite. Cody prepared his own bite, but watched as Obi-Wan ate his, trying to gauge his reaction. It was easy enough, as his face changed from curiosity to surprised delight to a slight wince as the sourness of the key limes hit him at the end.

“That’s delicious!” He said, covering his mouth as he spoke, “Damn that’s good.”

It was clear he had not meant to say the last bit, but Cody had to admit there was something amazing about hearing it slip out of his otherwise very dignified mouth. It let Cody’s thoughts stray to other things he might say, in other sorts of situations where a bit of cursing might be more than appropriate.

“Thank you,” Cody smiled and took a bite for himself, feeling that tartness of the limes in the sides of his mouth. There was no point in trying to be humble, the cheesecake was absolutely delicious, and Obi-Wan’s enthusiasm for a second bite made that even clearer.

It was almost dark outside, the shadows filtering into Obi-Wan’s kitchen through the curtains over the shuttered windows. Maybe it was the twilight or the ease of conversation or the way the limes forced both of them to smile, or the slight heat from the wine, but Cody found his mind already thinking of what future dates might bring. And how this one might end. The cheesecake was gone quickly, and Obi-Wan took the plates back to the kitchen, leaving Cody at the table for a moment. He waited, nervousness tightening his stomach.

“Would you be interested in maybe watching something in the living room?” Obi-Wan reappeared in the doorway of the kitchen, “I wasn’t sure if you had to leave.”

Did Cody need to leave? He really did, especially since he had to be in so early in the morning. But he didn’t want to.

“I’d love to,” He said, finishing the last of his wine in a quick swallow before he followed Obi-Wan into his living room.

“I really should be leaving,” Cody panted the words against Obi-Wan’s temple, feeling the start of a love bite starting to form just under where his collar would cover the next morning. It felt good, so good, so right in that moment.

They had started on the couch talking and watching some movie that now Cody was well aware he had no idea what was happening with as it played in the background. It was had progressed to a touch, then a light kiss, then a twist of his fingers in Obi-Wan’s hair and Obi-Wan undoing the top buttons on his shirt and pressing him back into the cushions as their lips met again and again and again.

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, leaning back from him against the cushions of the couch. Cody’s eyes fixed on his lips, slightly swollen and reddened with all the kissing they had just done. He supposed his looked much the same, but couldn’t imagine that anyone else could look quite as captivating as Obi-Wan did at the moment. Suddenly, as he was considering getting up, Obi-Wan broke out into a laugh, running his hands through his hair again.

“Everything okay?” Cody asked, genuinely concerned for a moment.

“What a week,” Obi-Wan answered, and when he looked at Cody he was grinning. “Oh,” He said, as if struck by a sudden thought, “Your cake plate.”

Waxer had been right. “You keep it. And the cheesecake,” He said, “It gives me a reason to come back if you’re interested?”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, a breathy laugh between his words, “I’m more than interested.” Cody’s quick glance down Obi-Wan’s body, flushed and loose and somewhat debauched, showed that was certainly true. “Can I walk you to the bus stop?”

“I’d like that,” Cody said, standing with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will there be more than 4 chapters? Of course, mostly because I have no self-control. ;)   
> Also Dooku makes an appearance and there's nothing I love more than writing Dooku to be honest
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy! Please R and R! Let me know what you think! :) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at this same name

Cody was kneading a batch of basic white loaves destined to be risen and sliced onto sandwich bread for tomorrow's lunch rush. The bread was good textured, springy in his hand despite the cold. It was always more difficult to raise bread in the winter, when the chilly weather would affect the ability of the yeast to react and keep the bread small and compact instead of the airy structure that made it so delicious. But years of attention and practice had their benefits, and this particular set of loaves would be fine in the proving stations that he and Waxer had put together two years before to ward off the chill.

He had some watchers this morning, interesting mostly because the night before had blown in snow from the river that still continued outside. While the city certainly wasn’t quiet, and the regular hustle and bustle was continuing despite the snow, he did have to say it was perhaps the first time he had had watchers this early in the morning while it snowed. One was a man, extremely tall and wearing what seemed to be multiple coats and a beanie that did little to keep his long hair contained as the snow clung to it. The next was a teenage girl with dark brown skin and a bright yellow coat, snow flakes catching in her curly hair. Each of them was holding a small child, barely above toddling age. The girl was holding a little boy who was watching Cody with rapt attention through the hole in the hood of his puffy coat, one of his hands reaching out towards the window. The man was holding a dark haired girl, who was far more focused on swiping the snow away from her face than she was on watching Cody.

Cody couldn’t be certain, but he was almost sure the man was Obi-Wan’s father, the girl his sister, and the children his niece and nephew. He wasn’t certain because he had only seen them once in focus when in Obi-Wan’s living room, and again briefly when he had gone to Obi-Wan’s house the day before to meet him for an evening bike ride. He smiled, thinking about it, shaping the load under his fingers so that it could start to raise. The ride itself had been lovely; there was a quiet, understated beauty to the winter landscape and the looming threat of snow had meant that there were very few people out and about so they could ride in the streets with no issue and go out to all of the semi-secret places that Cody had learned in a lifetime of living in the city.

Obi-Wan had lived here, too, he learned. His father and mother had moved to the city from London right before he was born and his father and stepmother and sister still lived in the same house thirty-four years later. He had applied for the tenure-track position at Coruscant to be closer to his family after more than a decade away. To be closer to Anakin and his new children, and Ahsoka who he had been getting to know more and more in the past couple of years since she had been just adopted and barely four years old when he had left for school but now their interests were actually fairly similar.

He had spent much of the story watching Obi-Wan’s face (when he should have, perhaps, been paying more attention to where he was riding), and could see the happiness that split his face as he talked about his family. It made Cody’s heart thrum in his chest, both because he had lost his breath slightly at the sight of Obi-Wan grinning broadly and carefree in the pale winter sun, and because Cody certainly felt the same way about his own family. It was large and perhaps more than a little strange, but he wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. To find someone else who felt the same was…rare to say the least.

To Cody it felt as though they had traversed the city in that short time, the whole of the afternoon spent in hidden nooks and crannies before they had gone for dinner at Fisto’s Fish and Chips, where the man from behind the counter was not only also British but rather close to Obi-Wans’ father. The food was delicious, the company better, and the kiss they had shared before Cody had ridden back to his apartment and Obi-Wan back to his house had been the best bit of the evening. Now it seemed, when he had perhaps been hoping for Obi-Wan to come by and get lunch or a bit of a treat, he would instead be meeting at least part of his boyfriends(?) family. That is, if they ever came inside.

He finished kneading the last loaf, sliding it on to the pan to join the rest for their final prove. He tied the bags losing sight of the window for a few minutes as he ensured they were loaded into the warmer. When he looked back, moving to take out ingredients for a birthday cake that a man was picking up at closing which meant it had to be baked and frosted no later than two so that it had time to chill. The fact that they were gone stilled him though and he felt slight nerves swell in his chest. The bell on the front door of the café rang in his ear, and part of him wanted to race out there while the rest of him wanted to hide.

Instead, he pulled the flour and sugar off the shelf, lifting the top of the mixer starting to cream the butter and sugar for the cake. He waited, expecting to hear Boba call him, but the call never came, and he sifted through the flour and cocoa and added spices and eggs and oil into the mixer until the batter was perfectly smooth. Even as he added the slight hit of coffee, mixed with hot water, the secret to a deep, rich chocolate taste, there was no call. As he prepped and loaded pans, making sure to pour the mixture evenly and smooth down the tops before he loaded them into the oven, there was still nothing.

He washed his hands, clearing away the space, when Boba’s voice finally floated back to him,” Cody!”

He turned around eagerly, expecting to see the little squadron, but didn’t. Perhaps he had been wrong and it wasn’t actually Obi-Wan’s family. 

“We need more raisin and walnut loaves up here. And more cookies.”

10:30 in the morning wasn’t a particularly busy time, but Boba was right that now was the time to restock since the lunch crowd would trickle in soon. He was glad to hear that the raisin and walnut was selling better: He had changed the recipe slightly two weeks ago after a dip in sales and since then, they had been steadily climbing back to where they needed to be. He loaded a tray of cookies and grabbed a basket of wrapped loaves. When he went out, the small group was indeed there, occupying a back table where they were drinking cappuccinos and apple juices, though Cody noticed that there was an untouched cup. Perhaps they were simply waiting on Obi-Wan to arrive; the thought gave a bit of lightness to his step. 

Cody hummed along to Boba’s music as he changed out the bread baskets, making note that they needed more baguettes and sandwich loaves on the shelf. The bell jingled again before he could return the baskets to the back, and he spared a sideways glance at the door. What he saw made him pause. It was an older man, perhaps in his late 80’s, standing in the doorway in a full three-piece suit with accompanying tailcoat. He was staring at Boba and Cody as if evaluating who it would be less painful to speak with, his severe looking face entirely impassive.

“Grandfather!” The voice had the man turning away from the counter to the small group of people where the teenage girl gestured with her hand. “We already got your coffee.”

“Something pressed, I hope.” Vaguely familiar English accent.

“They press all their coffee, Grandfather” The girl said with what Cody could tell was a note of perhaps infinite patience.

The man started towards them, walking with what Cody considered an extraordinary amount of grace for a man his age. There was a familiarity in his movements, in the cut of his face and the straight lines of his hair. He looked like Obi-Wan. He couldn’t recall Obi-Wan mentioning his grandfather except for as the butt of a joke of a story that he had told Cody very briefly, but now there was almost no doubt to Cody that this was in fact Obi-Wan’s family.

“Dad!” The tall man stood from his seat at the table and wrapped the man in a massive hug that he returned with a small part to the man’s back. Next to each other, neither looked quite so tall until Cody looked at them compared to the girl who the elderly man put his hand on her shoulder in greeting as he moved to sit by the coffee.

It was then that Cody decided he had best stop watching them, and instead went back to his business of switching around cookies for Boba who was taking the customer-free moments to change his playlist and clean out unused papers from the glass case, loading petit fours and truffles and some of Cody’s iced cookies into the glass case to replace the morning’s purchases.

“That old man looks like an Oil Baron,” Longshot came up behind Cody while he was busy trying not to watch Obi-Wan’s family without their noticing. He couldn’t help the laugh that came out of that, and Longshot grinned as he went back to loading bags for morning delivery orders. Cody glanced back at Obi-Wan’s potential grandfather and saw him looking at the time at pocket watch on a long gold chain clipped to his belt. Maybe he was an Oil Baron, after all.

He went back to the back, deciding that was the best course of action was to wait until either Obi-Wan’s family introduced themselves or left, and starting to work on his frostings for the cake. He had made some of the decorations from modeling chocolate the night before, freezing them to get them to stay in the correct positions, but the rest of the garden theme would need to be delicately frosted in buttercream. He set out the butter to warm to room temperature, still humming to himself. He would have to ask Boba what song that had been.

“Excuse me,” He heard the faintest sound of a familiar voice from where he had his head in one of the refrigerators. “Is Cody here?”

He stuck his head out from the fridge to see Boba stepping back to get him. “Ginger’s here,” Boba said, quietly enough that Obi-Wan wouldn’t hear him, grinning at Cody. “Looks flustered.”

“Thank you, Boba,” Cody said, keeping his voice flat as his brother laughed. He stepped back into the main room, and saw Obi-Wan standing there, looking indeed a bit flustered. Cody didn’t think it had anything to do with him, however, since he was turned in the opposite direction, looking at the family at the table.

“Obi-Wan!” The tall man said, his voice booming, “We just got here a few minutes ago.” Cody could hear the hints of an accent on his voice as well.

“Right,” Obi-Wan said, he glanced back to Cody, his face entirely apologetic, “Why don’t you all come up here and I can introduce you to Cody if he has a moment.”

“I am not finished with my coffee,” Obi-Wan’s grandfather said, taking a long sip from his mug even as Cody nodded.

“Does that mean you’re enjoying the coffee, Grandfather?” The teenager, who must have been Ahsoka, teased.

“It is acceptable,” He said rather loudly, and Cody raised his hand to cover his laugh at the look of horror on Obi-Wan’s face. Obi-Wan turned around towards him, stepping out of the way of the check-out as a woman came in to pick up a to-go order that Longshot had bagged.

“I’m so sorry, I told them to get here half an hour from now,” He said to Cody, “My father is usually never early to anything.”

It was not any of the adults who were the first to come up to the counter, however, it was the little boy and girl who came and latched themselves onto Obi-Wan’s legs. “Unc!” The little girl said, pressed her face into the soft cover of his peacoat.

“Hello, Luke,” He said first to the boy, “Hello, Leia,” Both giggled up at him, “Did Pappy bring you here?”

“Ye,” Luke said, and reached out his arms for Obi-Wan to pick him up which he obliged him with.He hooked Luke over his hip as he stood, and Leia stuck her lip out, pouting up at him to be picked up as well. It looked as though he was about to lift her as well until Ahsoka came in and swooped her up, mirroring Obi-Wan’s pose with her. Now Luke had noticed Cody, looking at him curiously.

He smiled at him across the counter and Luke smiled back with a giggle, waving a hand in hello. Leia was a bit more wary, but couldn’t help but to return Cody’s smile.

“They’ll be up here in a minute,” Ahsoka said and Cody looked around her to where Obi-Wan’s father and grandfather were still sitting.

“You all are here early,” Obi-Wan said to his sister, looking a bit pleadingly at her.

“Dad was surprisingly with it this morning,” Ahsoka said, shrugging her shoulders, “You know he likes any excuse to get out of the house and meet new people. And Grandfather called at dawn and woke us both up.”

She turned to Cody now, smiling at him warmly. “Are you Cody?”

“Yes,” He said, extending a hand that she took around Leia’s waist, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” She said, “Obi-Wan’s been talking about you a lot lately. I’m Ahsoka,” She shifted Leia up a bit higher, “This is Leia. And that,” She nodded to Luke, “Is Luke.”

“I’m sorry that Anakin and Padme couldn’t make it,” Cody said, “And your mom.”

“Yes, where is Shmi?” Obi-Wan asked.

“She got called in, some kind of personnel crisis,” Ahsoka offered, “Dad said he would bring her back anytime if we were still welcome after this little visit.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” Cody assured her, and Obi-Wan shot him a grateful look. “Why don’t I introduce you all to some of my brothers while your grandfather…finishes his drink.”

Obi-Wan blushed so dark red at the curve of his cheekbones that Cody had to hide a smile. He went in search of Rex who had been doing inventory the last time he had seen him, sparing a glance at the two men still sitting at the table. He had expected signs of agitation from Obi-Wan’s father, but upon looking at him, talking about his own father to something unknown, Cody didn’t think he had ever seen a more relaxed individual.

“Rex,” He said, poking his head into the back office where his brother was working busily over an order form. Rex held up a finger and Cody waited on him to finish the form and look up. “Obi-Wan and his family are here, I’d like you to meet them if you have a minute.”

“Anything for your love life, Codes,” Rex said, standing from the chair with a slight groan, “Been sitting here for too long anyway and I need to light thr grill.”

He stepped back out where Cody also caught Longshot before he could leave with the delivery orders he had packed to take into downtown. Both of them followed him upfront where Obi-Wan and Ahsoka stood, showing the twins all of the treats that decorated the glass cabinet. Leia had her eyes fixed on the chocolate turtles and Luke on the iced sugar cookie blue roses that Cody had made that morning, both entirely transfixed by all the decorations.

“Obi-Wan, Ahsoka,” Cody said as they came up, “These are two of my brothers, Rex and Longshot.”

“Longshot’s a cool name,” Ahsoka said, patting Leia’s back soothingly as she turned her head into her shirt.

“Sure beats Kenneth,” Longshot answered with a wink, “Nice to meet you. I’m gonna head out and get these where they need to go.” He waved a semi-free hand in good-bye and headed for the door, loading the bags into the mobile cart that they had bought for delivery purposes.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Rex said, looking at Obi-Wan, “Heard a lot about you. Nice to put a person with the name.”

“Same to you,” Obi-Wan said, and Luke waved his hand at Rex who gave him a small smile in return

“I’m going to head back, let me know if you all need anything,” He said, mostly to Cody but with a nod to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka.

“I think you’ve both already met Boba,” Boba was currently on the phone, fulfilling a call-in order for afternoon pick up. But he clicked his tongue and made some gesture with his hand that Cody assumed was a greeting since that is how both of his guests interpreted it. “And the twins should be out any minute with clean dishes.”

“How many brothers do you have?” Ahsoka asked curiously.

“Five,” Cody said, “All younger, all currently under my employ.”

“It’s hard enough to manage two brothers,” She said teasingly towards Obi-Wan, “Managing five is impressive.”

“All part of the experience,” Cody offered, smiling easily. She, like Obi-Wan, was easy to talk to.

“You must be Cody!” A much louder voice interrupted them, and Cody looked to see Obi-Wan’s father finally approaching the case, with the Grandfather walking slowing next to him with his coffee mug in one hand and the other tucked behind his back.

“Do you have a receptacle for the dishware?” Obi-Wan’s grandfather spoke before Cody could answer in the affirmative.

“I’ll take that,” Waxer had materialized out of thin air it seemed, plucking the used cup from the old man in the same motion that he set down the new tray of clean ones behind the counter. Cody glared at him, “Oh,” He said, “You’re always welcome to leave your dishes on the table, Sir.” He offered, and seeing Cody’s exasperation persisting, shrugged his shoulders.

“I put ours by the refill station,” Obi-Wan’s father said, gesturing to the refill station where there were two cappuccino mugs where they were sitting where they did not need to be.

“I’ll take care of those,” Waxer assured him, though Cody could see his eyebrows raising in confusion. 

“Before you go,” Cody said, “This is my brother Waxer. Waxer this is Obi-Wan. And his family.”

“Oh,” Waxer said, and a look of recognition of what was happening came over his face and he glanced towards the coffee cup in his hand, “Nice to meet you. One second and I’ll get Boil.”

He walked away before Cody could stop him and said something into the dishwashing area where Boil’s head appeared a few moments later. He reached out a hand and waved to the small posse of people in front of the counter. Luke and Ahsoka and Obi-Wan’s father waved back.

“And yes,” Cody said now to Obi-Wan’s father, “I’m Cody, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Qui-Gon Jinn,” He said, reaching for Cody’s hand and taking it with both of his own in a sort of warm clasp, “You know when Obi-Wan told me that he was already talking to someone in the city, I was very excited. It’s always been difficult for him to come out of his shell in new places.”

Cody glanced at Obi-Wan, who at the moment was beet red and seemed to be contemplating walking out of the bakery and into oncoming traffic to escape the situation.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to meet him either,” Cody said, “I think some things are meant to be.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes glowed warmly at him, and now Cody could see the resemblance between him and his son more clearly. The touch of warmth, the shape of his ears nd hairline. “Indeed, I think they are.”

Cody looked now to the older man, expecting him to introduce himself. “Cody, this is my Grandfather, Viscount Yan Dooku.”

Cody remembered Obi-Wan vaguely mentioning why they all had different last names, something to do with maternity and subjugation of expected norms. He needed to ask again, preferably before he saw the entire family again. He also wasn’t one hundred percent positive what a viscount was, something else to look up when he got home in the afternoon.

“Nice to meet you, Sir,”

“Likewise,” The man said, and it became clear to Cody that he had not introduced himself not out of rudeness but out of an expectation that Obi-Wan would do it. This would be an interesting relationship to navigate. “You are the owner of this establishment?”

“One of two,” Cody explained, “My brother Rex and I own and operate it as a partnership.”

“And you make everything in house?”

“Yes, Sir, everyday.”

“Your coffee is excellent,” Cody had to repress a smile when he saw Ahsoka trying and failing to hide her own at her grandfather’s formal manner, “I imagine your food is similarly fashioned.”

“If its anything like that cheesecake, it would have to be,” Qui-Gon spoke directly to Cody, “We went over to Obi-Wan’s to help move in the house plants and between me and Anakin and Soka, we finished off that cheesecake. I don’t think I’ve eaten anything that damn good since mine and Shmi’s wedding cake.”

“What cheesecake are you referring to?” Obi-Wan’s grandfather interjected before Cody could respond.

“You weren’t there, Grandfather,” Obi-Wan said.

“I enjoy cheesecake.”

This time Ahsoka laughed out loud which was making Cody’s own efforts to resist very difficult.

“Next time I will be certain to save you a piece,” Obi-Wan said, looking exasperated and apologetically at Cody. Cody smiled at him, genuinely. He wanted him to know that he appreciated getting this opportunity to meet them, that he liked them all, which he did. For Obi-Wan to know that he didn’t need to be worried about Cody’s opinion when at the moment while he reassured his grandfather about cheesecake and had his nephew propped on his hips carefully, he was nothing but perfectly appealing to Cody.

“See that you do.”

“I think we’ve taken enough of your time,” Qui-Gon offered, “Though we were planning on buying some treats to take home if you have a few minutes to help us.”

Cody went to get a box to find that Boba had already set one up for him, complete with paper and everything, even though he was ringing up other customers picking up loaves.

“All right,” Cody said, coming back to them, “What can I get for you?”

It took some deliberation, and a not small amount of toddler and geriatric wrangling to get their box of goodies picked out. A couple of truffles, two of the iced sugar cookies, half a dozen of the dark chocolate peanut clusters, a dozen of the fresh baked cookies in assorted flavors, a loaf of plain wheat sandwich bread, a loaf of the cranberry walnut breakfast bread, and a cinnamon twist for Obi-Wan to take back to his apartment. Obi-Wan relaxed considerably, Luke and Leia’s excitement making him laugh and Cody alongside him. Cody loaded them one of the heavy duty compostable bags as Qui-Gon paid Boba and included a small one so that they could separate out Obi-Wan’s grandfather’s peanut clusters for him to take home later.

After another couple minutes of conversation and goodbyes and an invitation by Qui-Gon to come to dinner at their home on Friday evening when Anakin was apparently planning on making smoked ribs and macaroni and cheese, they all left except Obi-Wan. The lunch rush was starting to pick up, and his birthday cake was almost done baking, but he was still buzzing with the afterglow of excitement. 

Obi-Wan lingered behind, down at the end of the counter and Cody figured, as Longshot came back inside and could help Boba, that he could take a minute to say goodbye.

“I’m sorry if that was a lot,” Obi-Wan said, “They were very excited to meet you. I didn’t even know my grandfather was coming, but Qui-Gon must have invited him and I know he can be a lot at times but he's actually quite—”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody said, stopping his apologetic rambling, “I think they’re great.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, and let out a breath he had been holding, perhaps without meaning to, “Oh.”

“They’re fun,” Cody said, “And polite, and clearly think the world of you.”

“That they do,” Obi-Wan said, his face touched with red again.

“We have that in common,” Cody said, leaning slightly over the counter.

Obi-Wan smiled at that, turning into Cody’s leanings. “They like you a lot,” He said, “I do, too.”

“Is that so?” Cody asked, and Obi-Wan laughed, his breath warm as it brushed along the bottom side of Cody’s face.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan said, “But I’ll leave you alone now, and go enjoy this delicious bread.”

Cody couldn’t resist, and leaned forward the slightest amount to press a slight, chaste kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips, one where the man met him halfway. It was over in an instant, but an instant that felt wholly right. It made him want more, to keep kissing, like they had on Obi-Wan’s couch. Hardly the type of thing they could do at work.

“I’ll see you Friday then,” Cody said, stepping back as the over timer started to beep. “I’ll bring more cheesecake so that your grandfather can have some.”

“Friday,” Obi-Wan said with a laugh, stepping out the door as the lunch crowd continued to grow in front of the register and the smell of Rex starting the first round of sandwiches on the grill started to fill the café.

Half an hour later, Obi-Wan texted a picture of his grandfather sleeping sitting up in a straight-backed armchair, Luke on his lap covered in dark chocolate from the peanut cluster he was sucking on in his closed fist.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose I could end it here, but I also want to write more of it??   
> Hmmmmmmm, decision decisions! 
> 
> Either way, I hope you all enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think :) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at this same name :)

“So, are you nervous or something?” Rex’s voice was his typical straightforward tone that came out when he thought Cody, or anyone, was acting ludicrous. It was most often reserved for the twins, but Cody had caught his fair share of it, especially since he had started seeing Obi-Wan. Cody had learned a long time ago that his brother was not one to dance around a subject and could, better than anyone, ask questions that cut down to the quick of an issue.

“Yeah, a bit,” Cody said, talking loudly so Rex could hear him over the clatter of the pans he was pulling out of the oven. His phone was largely safe from the noise, resting on top of the microwave, but he knew from experience how hard it could be to hear. “I’m meeting his family.”

“You already met his family.”

“I mean all of them,” Cody said, “And for longer than a few minutes.”

Rex didn’t speak for a minute but Cody suspected it was because he could hear him tapping the bottom of the focaccia that he had just pulled out of the oven to make sure it was baked through. He had told Obi-Wan that he would bring dessert, and a key lime and ginger cheesecake was already cooling in the fridge and a pack of white chocolate chunk cookies were bagged up and ready to go. But he had wanted to do a bit more, and –not knowing the whole menu—had decided to make a herb parmesan focaccia since he was yet to meet anyone who didn’t love the flavor.

“Codes, it's obvious they like you.”

“I’ve talked them for five minutes.”

“And Ginger’s been talking you up for about three weeks!” That thought gave Cody pause, though he could feel warmth trickling along his spine at the thought, “It’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Cody said.

“It doesn’t sound like you really believe that.”

“I know.”

“That guy looks at you like you walk on water, Codes.”

Did he? Cody thought back to the short lunch outing that he and Obi-Wan had gone on. He was telling him a story about something completely inconsequential—Longshot convincing him and Rex to spend the night in the backyard because a Bigfoot sighting had been reported nearby—and had actually paused when he noticed how Obi-Wan was looking at him. It was a look that had sent a spark flooding through him, head to toe, only fueled more by the small, shy smile that had come over Obi-Wan’s face as he realized that Cody had noticed and had suddenly starting paying far too much attention to his spoonful of soup.

He didn’t say anything back to Rex, who he could hear sigh dramatically on the other end of the phone. “It has to go well, Cody.”

“Oh yeah?” He heard Rex snort at his tone, “Why is that?”

“I already agreed to come in early tomorrow for you. You’ve got to make the most of it.”

“Bye, Rex.” He said, feeling the blush creep across his cheeks, and shook his head as Rex laughed and hung up the phone.

“That is the precise reason that the only true state of freedom will exist once the current government is completely dismantled.”

Cody was thankful that halfway through that sentence, he had chosen to take a long swig of Qui-Gon's home-ade lemonade. It saved him from having to respond to Obi-Wan’s grandfather, who was watching him insistently across the dining room table. His lemonade kept him at bay for a moment, and Cody weighed his options for response, trying to decide which thought was least likely to start a shouting match.

“Grandfather,” Ahsoka swooped in at that moment to save him, “I think that dad was wanting your thoughts on side dishes.”

“Side dishes?”

“He mentioned you were taking new stomach medication,” She leaned forward on the table, and gave Cody the slightest bit of a wink, “He wants to make sure he doesn’t put in anything you can’t eat.”

“Very well,” He stood with one fluid motion and a nod at Cody, “Perhaps we can continue this conversation later, Cody.”

“Anytime,” Cody said, hoping that the sincerity he was faking made it into his voice. Ahsoka slid into another of the seats at the table, waiting until her grandfather had made it into the kitchen before she spoke.

“Was he giving his speech about anarchy and the true state of freedom?” She asked, in such a blasé way that Cody sucked a mouthful of lemonade down the wrong pipe.

“Is that common?” He choked out.

“For me and Obi-Wan,” She said, smiling herself now, “Not Anakin though. Grandfather thinks Anakin lacks the “fortitude” for political theory.” The air quotes she made around fortitude told Cody all he needed to know about it being a long-running family joke. “And he tried to convince Padme that she was contributing to the oppression of the masses when she got elected to the City Council.”

He was able to contain himself that time, though that conviction was tested again as Ahsoka pointed a hand to the living room where Obi-Wan had been trying to return from his brief trip to the restroom and had instead been accosted by his father and grandfather who seemed to be arguing over a tray of bean dip.

“I’m sure that cumin doesn’t violate your dietary restrictions, Grandfather,” That was the only bit that Cody caught as Obi-Wan joined them, running one had through his hair and both over his face before he caught Cody’s eye and smiled.

“Waging a war against cumin?” Cody asked.

“Flavor in general,” Obi-Wan said, sliding into the seat that his grandfather had occupied only a few minutes before, “I’m sorry if he berated you about anarchism; it means he thinks you’re intelligent.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment then,” Cody assured him with an easy smile. Obi-Wan looked a bit more relieved, reaching for the pitcher of lemonade and one of the glasses stacked on the table to pour himself a cup. All of the glasses were, as far as Cody could tell, some sort of vintage Beatles merchandise glassware set. He was currently drinking out of one with a smiling Ringo painted on the side and Obi-Wan had just picked up one decorated with a yellow submarine. They matched a lot of the things in the backyard from the bright pink plastic furniture to the fleet of flower planters that matched the Volkswagen bus planter on Obi-Wan’s porch. Qui-Gon’s work, he had been assured.

When they had first arrived, the inside of the house had been much more…standard than Cody was expecting. It was covered with pictures (not dissimilar to Obi-Wan’s house), but beyond that the furniture was fairly standard, if a little worn from being well-used. It was bright, but neutrally colored, a large television and some bookshelves in the front room. The small bathroom that he had used earlier was decorated with a beach theme, complete with small seashell shaped soaps. Obi-Wan had informed him that the normalcy of the house was entirely a result of concentrated efforts by his stepmother, Shmi. 

“Did Anakin say when the meat would be done?” Ahsoka asked, finally relenting to get herself some of the lemonade, reaching for a cup with a cartoon rendition of John Lennon.

“Padme just went that way with a sheet of trays, so I’d say it's about ready,” Obi-Wan answered, gesturing to the side of the house where his brother and sister-in-law were apparently on the tail end of smoking several racks of ribs and a container of mac and cheese.

“Is this a regular thing?” Cody asked, and Obi-Wan gave a short laugh as he looked up, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“If you’re asking about the meat smoking, it only happens when Anakin’s over here since he broke the smoker at his own house trying to add an extra compartment,” Knowing what he did about Anakin, even though he was yet to meet him, Cody could imagine that easily, “But if you mean the parties, then sort of. Dad and Shmi love us all to come over, but its rare we can all get together like this.”

“Almost as rare as Grandfather not wearing a full suit,” Ahsoka added under her breath.

The Count was not in a suit today, but did have on a sport coat, dress slacks, and an emblem that Cody was almost certain was the Royal Navy. (All of which had led to more questions than answers. Did Anarchists join the Royal Navy?)

“Pap!” Cody looked up as he heard a small voice from the top of the set of stairs in the living room. It was Leia who had yelled for Qui-Gon as she made her way down the stairs, sitting in the center and scooting down each step with haste and so much determination that the tip of her tongue peaked out of the corner of her mouth. Luke was also making his way down the stairs, albeit much slower, by clinging to the railing and stepping down one at a time.

“I think that means naptime is over,” Obi-Wan said, clearly amused. “I’ll be right back.” He walked over to the steps as Leia reached the bottom and swooped her up in his arms.

“Where Pap?” She asked, frowning.

“Pappy is occupied with Great Grandfather,” Obi-Wan assured her, and reached down a hand to take Luke’s as he reached the bottom and pulled himself up to stand, “Come sit with me and Aunt Soka and Cody.”

“Co-dee?” Luke asked, scrunching his nose in confusion.

Cody found himself suddenly nervous. He had already met the children of course, but that didn’t meant they would remember him. Obi-Wan sat back down in his chair, situating Leia so she could see while Luke clamored up into Ahsoka’s lap to look at Cody from across the table.

“This is Cody,” Obi-Wan said, “You remember Cody from the bakery?”

Leia pursed her lips, studying Cody’s face. Luke did the same, but only for a moment before he smiled and waved again, exactly as he had the other day. Cody returned the gesture and the smile, and Luke seemed satisfied, starting to play with the button on the end of Ahsoka’s sweater sleeve. Leia, however, seemed more resistive.

“Hello,” Cody finally said, feeling only marginally foolish. Being the oldest of five had given him plenty of experience in talking to toddlers, “It’s nice to see you again, Leia.”

He gave her a full, broad smile, and she finally returned it, turning her head into Obi-Wan’s hair to break their gaze as she did.

“Padme, this mac and cheese is fu—” A sharp look from Shmi stopped Anakin mid-word, “-licious.”

“Fu-licious?” Ahsoka snorted and Qui-Gon’s shoulders shook so hard that the table rattled slightly with repressed laughter.

“Fu-licious,” Anakin confirmed, looking down to see if the twins were paying attention. They weren’t. Leia had gone straight to Qui-Gon when he had come in and was sitting in his lap eating from her small plate as he ate around her with no issue. It was more than slightly comical to watch, Obi-Wan’s father was such a large man that Leia looked as though she were a doll sitting there, and his arms could lay around her on either side to reach his plate that was almost in the center of the table. Luke had taken up residence with Obi-Wan’s grandfather, sitting perched on his knee, watching him eat a plate of Barbeque ribs and macaroni with far more dignity than Cody imagined was possible. Luke was clearly trying to copy his movements, keeping his small plastic fork held in the tips of his tiny fingers, pointed downward to stab one noodle at a time and lift it carefully.

A small pile of noodles, slipping from the fork, was accumulating on the expanse of table between his tray and the plate, a fact that the Count had clearly noticed and was working hard to ignore.

“So is this bread,” Anakin said, and waved the piece he was holding over at Cody, “Fu-licious. Obi-Wan said you made this?”

“I did,” Cody nodded, covering his mouth until he could swallow, “It’s one of our bestsellers at the bakery.”

“I can see why,” Anakin said and tore off a bite with his teeth before running the rest through the barbeque sauce pooled on his plate. Whatever disdain Obi-Wan’s grandfather had for the noodles on the table, he had twice as much for Anakin’s eating choices.

“Anakin…” Cody was certain he wasn’t imagining Obi-Wan’s soft sigh of exasperation.

“How long have you been running your bakery?” It was Padme who spoke this time, from far at the other end of the table.

“For six years now,” Cody sat up, thinking through over the math in his head, “My brother Rex and I opened it after he graduated from Coruscant.”

“With a culinary degree?” She asked.

“Accounting, actually,” Cody laughed even though he knew no one would get the joke, “We needed someone to do the taxes.”

“Taxes are the government’s way of financing their own tyranny,” Obi-Wan’s grandfather interjected before Padme could respond. The tension spiked in the room even as Anakin and Ahsoka both ducked their heads to keep from laughing.

“That’s an interesting way of looking--,” Cody started to say, trying to be neutral.

“The half percent food and beverage tax is hardly the oppression of the people,” Padme cut in, with an apologetic glance at him, “It’s going to fund the city parks system.”

“Parks? I believe you mean regulation of physical space that should be available to all?”

“Safe and developed areas for children, families, and citizens,” Padme corrected, taking a bite of rib off the end of her fork, staring down Obi-Wan’s grandfather who now chewed slowly on his own bite of steamed broccoli. Cody was entirely unsure if he should laugh like one Ahsoka was barely restraining or be horrified as Shmi clearly was at their argument. It was clear to Cody that this was not a new argument. 

“I like the duck pond park,” Qui-Gon said absentmindedly, looking around the table as if he expected someone to argue. “I’ve always liked ducks.”

That ended whatever bit of restraint Ahsoka had remaining and she dissolved into laughter that split the tense air that had formed in the room. “I used to go to that park all the time as a kid,” Cody said, and felt Obi-Wan’s hand squeeze his knee. Whether it was in thanks or simple comfort, he appreciated the gesture. “And Obi-Wan and I went there the second day we met.”

“How did you all meet?” Anakin asked, having gotten his own hilarity under control, “Obi-Wan’s practically a hermit.”

“Be nice to your brother, Anakin,” Shmi said, and Cody saw that Obi-Wan was blushing, glaring slightly at his brother.

“I saw Cody through the window at the bakery and went back to get some bread later that day,” Obi-Wan explained, “The rest,” His thumb rubbed a soft circle on Cody’s knee under the table, “is history, I suppose.”

“Have you been over to Obi-Wan’s house?” Shmi asked, “I loved it when he bought it, it looks just like a little cottage!”

“I thought the same thing,” Cody agreed with a smile. He was glad it wasn’t just him who thought that.

“I gave him that rhubarb planter,” Qui-Gon interjected, pushing a loose hair back off of his face in a gesture that looked very familiar to Cody who had found himself watching Obi-Wan do that exact thing many times now.

“I think he had figured that out himself, dad,” Ahsoka added helpfully and now everyone enjoyed a slight laugh at Qui-Gon’s expense.

“Everyone needs a good rhubarb planter,” He defended.

“My dad makes rhubarb syrup in the summer,” Cody said, and Qui-Gon looked up from where he was directing Leia to finish her broccoli, intrigued. “Most of his backyard is a garden,actually, and he has a whole row of rhubarb in it.”

“What does he do with the syrup?” Anakin asked, his mouth full of rib. Padme tapped his arm slightly and he swallowed the entire bite. Cody could feel, without looking, the almost comic irritation radiating from Obi-Wan.

“He always gives me a couple of case to make strawberry rhubarb tarts and cheesecake for the bakery during the summer,” Cody explained, “And the rest he uses himself or sells to Vos’ over on fifth to use for cocktails.”

“I have eight or nine plants in the yard; I told Obi-Wan last year that I should be doing more with it than using it for bread.”

“Oh yeah,” Cody nodded, “Obi-Wan told me you were interested in bread baking...I don’t think I’ve ever put rhubarb in bread.”

“I do like baking,” Qui-Gon agreed, smiling and looking almost…wistful, “I’m not very good at it, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” Cody was not sure what else to say.

“Let’s say there’s a reason you’ve never put rhubarb in bread, Cody,” Ahsoka supplied helpfully.

“And why is that?” Qui-Gon asked, though Cody could the hint of humor in his voice.

“Because Cody knows what’s he’s doing.”

It was Shmi, not Ahsoka, who said it and the whole table shook with laughter. Even the Count cracked a smile at that.

“It was wonderful to meet you,” Padme and Anakin were stepping out, arms laden with sleeping babies and freezer bags of leftovers, “Anakin and I would love to have you both over anytime we’re home. Our schedule is just a bit out whack at the moment.”

“It was nice to finally meet you both, too,” Cody said, meaning it wholeheartedly. Padme was steadfast and calm and collected and Anakin was all energy and life and humor. Nice people, good people, who had clearly been wanting to meet him for a while.

Anakin’s hand shot out and landed on Cody’s shoulder, “Don’t let Obi-Wan bore you too much,” He winked at Obi-Wan who rolled his eyes and dropped his voice to a loud whisper, “If he makes any book recommendations, I would strongly consider if you’re actually interested in the subject before agreeing.”

“Goodbye, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin laughed as he pulled Obi-Wan into a one-armed hug, Luke shifting slightly where he was asleep on his shoulder. “Bye, Padme,” He added from against Anakin’s chest.

“Goodbye!” Padme said and followed Anakin out the front, stepping carefully not to shift Leia around too much as she stepped down.

With them gone, it was only he and Obi-Wan that remained who didn’t live in the house. Obi-Wan’s grandfather had left shortly after dinner, telling everyone that he was avoiding driving at night due to his night-blindness. (Which he did not actually have, according to Shmi) And Ahsoka had gone upstairs to take a phone call with one of her friends.

“You ready to head out?” Obi-Wan asked as the door closed, turning to face him. It occurred to Cody how close they were, how he could feel the heat radiating off of Obi-Wan’s body against the cold that came in from the night air outside. Without really thinking much about it, Cody leaned forward, tilting his head to catch Obi-Wan’s in a soft kiss. Obi-Wan returned it eagerly, his arms coming around Cody’s waist. It was soft, and slow, but there was a hint behind it. A bit of fire, that Cody himself had felt building between them throughout the gentle touches under the table and the passing brushes as they had helped clean up after dinner.

“If you are,” Cody said as he pulled back from their kiss, slightly breathless.

“Obi-Wan!” Obi-Wan’s father called from the kitchen, “I’ve packed your leftovers.”

Obi-Wan’s hand lingered along Cody’s arm as he moved to step away to the kitchen. “If you’re interested,” He said, and hesitated for a moment, “I thought we could go for a drink at my house when we’re done here.”

He didn’t wait on an answer, but stepped away into the kitchen. Cody could hear the tell-tale sounds of hugging and plastic bags. Obi-Wan stepped out, followed by Qui-Gone and Shmi, who handed Cody his cheesecake plate and a plastic baggie of his own packed with leftover ribs.

“Oh,” He said and smiled, “Thank you, that’s lunch for me tomorrow.”

“It was so nice of you to come over,” Shmi said, “I hope you’ll come back sometime and show me how to make that cheesecake.”

Cody had promised, after the cheesecake had been demolished in short order, to show Shmi how to make hers where it wouldn’t crack and the share his filling recipe.

“Thank you for having me,” Cody said, meaning every word, “I had a great time.”

Qui-Gon stepped forward slightly, and at first, Cody thought he wanted around him before he was enveloped in a massive hug. Not really thinking, he returned it, and Qui-Gon released him after a few seconds.

“Come back anytime!” He said, landing his hand on Cody’s shoulder just as Anakin had done. And again copying Anakin, stepped forward and enveloped Obi-Wan in an equally large hug, nearly lifting him from the floor.

“Thanks, dad,” Obi-Wan said against his shoulder, stepping forward to hug Shmi, “And thanks, mom. We’ll be back, I’m sure.”

Cody followed Obi-Wan to the door, waving a finally good-bye to Ahsoka who waved her hand down from her bedroom window.

“So,” Obi-Wan said, buckling himself in, “Where to now?”

Cody looked over at Obi-Wan, who was clearly nervous. He felt giddy, as giddy as he had when he was a small child going to the duck pond, or as when the loan had come through for the bakery, or as when he walked to the back room window and seen Obi-Wan waiting on the other side of it in what seemed now like a different lifetime.

“I believe you mentioned something about your place?” He asked, and his heart thumped just a bit harder in his chest at Obi-Wan’s broad smile.

Light filtered in onto Cody’s face, weak and watery like it always was in winter. It woke him less because of the light itself and more because he wasn’t used to light shining on his face in the morning since he typically got up long before morning had a chance to fully arrive. And kept a black out curtain on his bedroom window to block out the neighbors television screen that they played until the wee hours of the morning.

He was not in his room, however, and it was the first night in a long while that he could remember not waking up at the early hour regardless of whether he was going in or not. Six days a week, he went in early and typically the seventh day bled into the rest and he woke early. But not today. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in as long as he could remember, even if he wasn’t quite familiar with the room he was in.

He turned on the bed and saw that Obi-Wan was still sleeping softly next to him, head turned slightly away from Cody. His normally neatly combed hair was mussed with sleep and the Cody's hand from the night before, only peaks of his pale, slightly-freckled skin showing where he was keeping close to the warmth underneath the blanket. Careful not to wake him, Cody slid from the bed and went to the en suite, emptying his bladder and using a bit of the mouthwash on the sink to rinse out the taste of sleep from his mouth. He stepped back out into Obi-Wan’s room, the man still sleeping, through he had turned towards the spot that Cody had left, stretching a hand across it. Before he climbed back into bed, Cody pulled his boxer shorts back on, feeling suddenly a bit exposed being in an unfamiliar space. He checked the clock, and it was just past 6:30 in the morning. Rex had said he didn't need him in until after lunch…

He climbed back into the bed, gently nudging Obi-Wan’s arm. His blue eyes blinked open, and he smiled at Cody softly, still practically asleep. Cody settled back under the blanket and as Obi-Wan’s eyes closed again, he turned his body, warm skin settling against Cody’s as he pressed against him, draping an arm around Cody's waist.

Cody closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the moment wash over him, sleep coming to him easily.


	6. The Finale: An Epilogue of Sorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love on this story! It was so fun to write and your comments were so encouraging! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this last little installation :)) 
> 
> I decided to end it so I could give it the ending I wanted it to have rather than letting it sit while I work on a couple of other projects.   
> Im writing two big things right now: As Blue as the Blood in Your Veins and my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card. If you're interested, I'd love your thoughts. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think :)) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at this same name

“The important thing to remember is that there’s no one way to knead,” Cody said, leaning forward slightly onto this ball of dough, “You have to do what feels natural to you. Get a rhythm going.”

If there was one thing Cody could say about his students, it was that they were eager. He kneaded his own dough as he watched them, the motions so familiar to him that he had no need to look as it as it rolled and stretched under his fingers. It was unusual to feel it against his actual fingers, at the bakery, he always wore the safety gloves and he had gotten out of the habit of making his own at home that required needing since his time had been rather occupied as of late.

At the table closest to him, an elderly couple kneaded at their dough gently. It would take them years, Cody considered, to get the gluten built up that they would need at the rate they were going.

“Remember that this is the stage where you build up your loaves' strength,” He said to them a few of them looking up from their work at him. One man was kneading his with such ferocity that as Cody heard the thumps he was making him against the table, he was certain that the rhythm the man had chosen was the back beat of Stayin Alive by the Beegees. “You need to work it hard enough so that it can stretch between your fingers without cracking or your loaf won’t hold its shape.”

The elderly woman’s efforts increased minutely, and Cody’s lips twitched into a smile as she nudged her husband with her elbow to the do the same. The rest of the room was kneading with increasing insistence, some of them occasionally glancing up at Cody to see if they should continue. There was the elderly couple, the disco fan, a woman in her 40’s with her teenage daughter who was pretending not to enjoy this as much as she was. A pair of married women who had both ended up covered in flour after one of them had neglected to secure the locking mechanism on their stand mixer. A man in his early twenties who had come with his own apron that said “Southern Cookin’ Makes You Good Lookin’” and his friend who had tried to mix his dough without his mixer plugged in for several minutes. And then, at the front left table were two people who Cody was thrilled to see were quite engaged in conversation.

One was Obi-Wan, the sleeves of his dark blue sweater rolled up to his elbows, his apron carefully pleated to cover from his neckline over his dark black jeans. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself as he kneaded at his bread, occasionally glancing over at Cody with a soft smile that carried all the way to his eyes alongside his glasses.

The other was his father, who had brought his own apron from the flower shop, the small familiar logo in the corner of the bright green fabric. They made quite the pair of bread bakers, and there had been moments that morning that Cody could still hardly believe that they both come to this. It was hardly the first time that they had spent time together, but the sight of them talking and laughing there together, enjoying each other’s company so easily made Cody’s chest lighten. Even if the rest of the class was an unmitigated disaster, that would have been more than worth it. 

And there was a good chance it might be, though Cody was absolutely positive that no community center class could go as poorly as the one he and Rex had tried to tag team teach on making homemade fudge. Several minor burns and only one presentable tray of fudge later, he had been fairly certain that they would not be invited back. But here they were.

Cody recognized the stiffness in his own dough and looked down at what would be his future loaf.

“Alright, everyone, you should be wrapping up this knead soon,” He said, and held up his own loaf to demonstrate. He stretched the bread between his fingers, able to see the fluorescent light through the stretch without it breaking. He waited as others around the room started to do the same, catching Obi-Wan trying to meet his gaze as he held up his bread to stretch it. It held as he stretched it, and he grinned triumphantly at Cody who returned his excitement. In the five months that they had been together, Obi-Wan had admonished often about his own struggles with baking various things--Cody had eaten several slightly burned cookies in Obi-Wan’s living room after an otherwise very nice dinner—and he had seemed genuinely thrilled at the prospect of taking Cody’s baking class. “We need to get them in the bowls to prove.”

Cody looked with mild concern at the elderly folks in the front, but before he could intervene, Obi-Wan had stepped over the woman, who’s loaf had torn when she had lifted it to check. With a disarming smile that made Cody’s heart melt the tiniest bit, he had had offered to help her, moving the dough in quick but steady kneads. Cody moved to help her husband, but his father stepped in front of him, putting an arm on his shoulder before moving to shake the hand of the old man and taking his dough.

“I’m a professional,” Jango said gruffly, “Taught that one everything he knows.” He leaned his head back towards Cody and the room shared a light laugh. Cody joined them good-naturedly, and between their efforts, both loaves were ready in only a couple of minutes.

After they were back at their stations, loaves returned to their owners, Cody showed them how to shape their bread and spread oil in a thin layer around their ceramic bowls for proving. After they were prepped came their fillings and butters.

The room filled with rich aromas, both savory and sweet. Some of them had gone more basic, preparing mixes of chocolate and fruit and nuts in large bowls to accompany their bread. Others were utilizing the hot plates and making everything from cinnamon and date paste to Obi-Wan’s pine nut and onion filling. All the mixers whirring to prepare the fresh butter, the room was so filled with sound that Cody couldn’t hear any of the conversations except for a fractured shout as the same woman who had launched flour everywhere did the same with her curds.

He went to aid her with a roll of clean paper towels, and she was beet red with embarrassment at herself by the time they were finished, her wife consoling her into giving the butter a second try. His father’s was perhaps the most complicated, and watching him work made Cody remember all of the reasons that he had started the bakery. He was carried back to his childhood as he looked over the edge of the table, remembering standing on a chair with his father’s arm around his waist to keep him steady, learning how to cook everything from chili to milk caramel. His father was making a honey caramel now, glazing in it pecans and walnuts with a mix of spices that smelled of cinnamon, cloves, and anise. Cody had absolutely zero doubt that his would be the best loaf in the room (his own included) despite the fact that the pine nut and onions that Obi-Wan was cooking seemed like they would make a valiant effort. If it had been a competition, Jango’s cinnamon butter would have certainly tipped him just over the edge.

“That looks great, dad,” Cody said, over the roar of his mixer.

“And it smells amazing,” Obi-Wan added from over his own pan, “I could eat those straight from the pan.”

“I make it as Christmas gifts,” Jango said, “It’s how I maintain my popularity in the family.”

Cody rolled his eyes, though it was true that they had several family members start asking about his father’s pecans in early November every year. It was only his father and Rex and Waxer who could make them properly—Cody’s were decent, Longshot had never even tried, and Boil and Boba’s were completely abysmal. To meet the needs of all of the extended family, the three of them kept production at an all time high in the fall.

“That does look delicious,” The elderly woman had ventured over to their table. Cody thought that hers looked delicious as well, a mix of heated condensed milk and coconut and dark chocolate with pecans, “You look awfully familiar.”

“Jango Fett,” He said, looking up, “Aren’t you Marianne Wilcox?”

“I am, honey” She looked confused, and then noticed the logo on his apron, “Oh you’re the one who made the wonderful flower arrangement for our church float!”

The conversation devolved as his father, ever-friendly, started discussing the shop and the church and the Midsummer Nights Festival that he had prepared the arrangement for. Cody took the opportunity to move across from Obi-Wan, waiting until he had his mixture out of the pan before he spoke.

“Enjoying the class?” He asked, only slightly nervous about the answer.

Obi-Wan smiled, straining his butter that he had mixed in with a hint of rosemary and thyme.

“The teacher is excellent,” He teased, meeting Cody’s gaze for a moment before he returned to his work, “Perhaps I’m not so hopeless at baking after all.”

“You have to wait on the rise to know for sure,” Cody said with a wink, leaning forward on the table. Obi-Wan did the same, but held back, less than an inch away from the kiss that Cody was offering to him. “But I think you might be today’s star student.”

“Teacher’s pet, more like,” Cody’s father interjected, and Obi-Wan let out an unexpected laugh.

“Oh, I think it's obvious who’s really excelling today,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to Jango’s mix, “I don’t think I could compete with that.”

Cody watched his father lift one of the candied pecans on the end of the spoon and hold it where Obi-Wan could take it between careful fingers.

“Best just to enjoy it then,” Jango agreed, and Obi-Wan covered his mouth as he started to laugh again, this time with his mouth full.

* * *

Cody laid his head back onto Obi-Wan’s lap, feeling his long fingers automatically start to stroke through his hair. Dinner had been delicious and quiet, the baked chicken casserole complimented perfectly with Obi-Wan’s bread he had made and the bottle of wine that Cody had picked up on the way over. And now, skin tingling slightly with the two glasses he had sipped on through dinner, and the early summer heat that creeped into the house, the feel of Obi-Wan’s fingers on his head felt absolutely perfect.

“I didn’t expect this, you know,” Cody didn’t realize he had had closed his eyes until Obi-Wan spoke He opened them again, watching Obi-Wan’s face that looked contemplative.

“Being able to make bread?” Cody asked, “It just takes a bit of practice.”

“Tell my father that,” Obi-Wan smiled, looking down at his face, “But no, that isn’t what I meant.”

Cody waited knowing Obi-Wan would tell him, and reached for his other hand, lacing their fingers together and holding them together to his chest.

“I didn’t expect you,” He said softly, “This. Us.”

“Mmm.”

Cody thought back on the last five months, as it had changed from winter to spring and now to summer. Of all the things that he had learned about Obi-Wan, all of the quiet evenings spent like this. Of all of the times Obi-Wan had come for lunch in the bakery between his morning and evenings courses, of all the bike rides as the flowers had started blooming, of all the nights that he had woken in Obi-Wan’s arms, leaving for the bakery before he work up but not before he woke up enough for a sweet, simple kiss. He thought of all the dinners at Obi-Wan’s house, all of the afternoons spent with Obi-Wan’s family, or of the evenings spent with his own.

He felt a lightness building in his chest when he thought of the little things. The toothbrush Obi-Wan had bought him that was sitting on the sink upstairs, the leatherbound Atlas set he had bought Obi-Wan for his birthday, the new, retro-style bicycle that Obi-Wan had gotten him for his. He thought of all the laughs, all the movies that were cried over or half-watched as they dissolved into an opportunity for more pleasant things. He thought of the evenings they’d gotten carried away and knocked over a stack of half-graded papers and hadn’t even noticed until they were through. He thought of the bus ride they had taken through the entire city, staying on board for the duration of the loop until they saw each and every neighborhood with Obi-Wan’s head on his shoulder and his hand in Obi-Wan’s own.

“I didn’t expect you either,” Cody said, rubbing his thumb along the ridge of Obi-Wan’s hand, “I’m not usually one for surprises.”

“Me neither,” Obi-Wan laughed gently. Cody could feel something on the air, something building and slightly monumentous, and he felt his breath catch.

“I love you,” Obi-Wan said finally, simply, not looking at him. Cody felt warmth flood him, from head to toe, even as Obi-Wan’s fingers in his hair stilled as his nervous anticipation grew.

“I love you, too,” He said, and smiled until Obi-Wan looked down at him, his cheeks started to glow a soft red under his beard. He lifted Obi-Wan’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, “More than I can say.”

Obi-Wan smiled, that very same smile he had the first time Cody saw him, watching through the bakery window.


End file.
